Storytelling
by Angelic Lawyer
Summary: On a lonely night, Christine tells her daughter a very singular fairytale, with immutable consequences. More original than it may sound.


A/N: This was a rather insistent idea that didn't stop bothering me until I began to write it down. I know this is a very explored theme, but I just couldn't resist telling it in my own way. This is not a crossover, though there are a lot of fairytale typical elements here. Besides, the passages related to Erik's past are a little different and imprecise, since they're based on Christine's blurry knowledge (and I haven't read Susan Kay's book yet, as many may know). Mostly based on ALW's version, like my other fics, with some passages deliberately ignored or modified. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome :) Disclaimer: Except for Sophie, no one here belongs to me. They're all a product of far more creative minds. 

Like a child playing the funniest of games, Christine savored the existing peace of a resting house, dimly illuminated by the last flames in the hearth. She knew she was the only one still awake, for the few servants had already asked permission to retreat to their rooms. That deep silence, a consequence of her solitude, reminded her of Erik's underground lair; it used to be tangibly quiet when he wasn't composing or teaching her, and even at such moments there had always been a subtle silence impregnated with meaning. Could it be that five whole years had gone by since she had bid farewell to that place, that home? 

The vibrant chime of the grandfather clock in the living room let her know how late it was, and the nostalgic conjectures returned to the recesses of her mind. It was time to sleep and she was already anticipating the sheltering warmth of the blankets as she left her embroidery unfinished on the rocking chair. In the corridor, however, the unexpected clarity coming from one particular room at such an hour redirected her path.

She frowned slightly, but her expression softened instantly at the sight of a little girl sat on a boat-shaped bed, thumbing through a huge book on her lap.

"You should be dreaming by now, little one," she told her from the doorway, gazing lovingly at the child.

"But I don't feel sleepy, Maman," the girl justified, closing the book with disdain. "And I was searching for that story you told me. I can't find it in any of my books."

"That's because no one ever registered that story on a book, Sophie," Christine replied softly, permanently marveling at her daughter's inherited love for fantastic stories. Even though she was a very intelligent child, learning to read almost completely by herself, she still insisted on asking her mother to read for her every night until she fell asleep with a smile dancing on her lips.

"Oh, really? A pity… I'd like to see its original," Sophie sighed. "Where's Papa?" 

"Visiting friends." 

 "You and Papa have told me very distinct versions of it and I'd love to see how it's really written, on a real book," she declared.

"Sometimes our opinions about the characters diverge a little," Christine admitted, wondering how far Sophie's accurate perception could go to detect such tiny dissimilarities, "but fairytales have thousands of versions. Have you read the Grimm Brothers' books I gave you?"

"Yes. I enjoyed their stories, though they are slightly different from the ones I've read before," she remarked pensively. "I even searched for your story there." 

"I'm glad you liked it, my cherub," she sat on the bed, drawing the girl to her lap. "Now, would like to listen to a story before going to sleep?"

"Of course, Maman!" Sophie's eyes sparkled with excitement at the word "story". "The one you and Papa tell in diverse ways."

Christine smiled furtively. This _story_ possessed all the elements Sophie loved; the mystification of her own father's Swedish tales and the love intrigues of the conventional fairytales were present in every word. Christine liked to think that perhaps because of this Sophie never stopped asking for it, and, someday, she would come to know the real depths of it – that is, if she hadn't already guessed a bit by the way her parents disagreed about many crucial points and characterizations in that fable alone, painting each character with their own differing colors.

 When the child was comfortably curled in her arms, she took a deep breath and began,

"Once upon a time, in a beautiful, colorful shire, full of magic and laughter, there was a poor farmer and his wife, who was expecting their first child. Even living a simple life, they were extremely happy. The entire neighborhood respected them and wished only the best for the baby.

"However, when the earliest labor pains were felt, the father-to-be and his wife ventured through the shadowy lanes to find a midwife, and it was then that Fate crossed their way with Misfortune herself.

"An old witch intercepted them and asked for the farmer's assistance. She needed an herb to conclude her beauty potion, and, oddly, the closest place where she could find it was at his farm. The man, annoyed by such a shallow intent in face of his child's birth, refused harshly. The witch became instantly furious, not quite accustomed to receive denials of any kind. Seeing the farmer's pregnant wife, vengeance played rapidly in her mind.

'Very well,' she decreed, 'because of your selfishness, your child won't possess not even a fragment of what you so effortlessly rejected to the others! From this moment on, disgrace fall upon you!' "

Madame Giry's hushed tone the day she had told her about Erik's sad past echoed in her mind after so many years. It was so easy now to transform those pitiful circumstances into a fairytale… _When I was born, Christine, the midwife told my mother that I was a demon, a punishment to her sins. Since then, I've been seen as such*._ Erik's confession followed that distant remembrance, and her chest constricted instinctively as it had done so many years ago, when she had heard him mutter those words filled with anguish.

"The spell was much more dreadful than they could have ever imagined; it was not only an unjustified abhorrence to an innocent child, but a type of barrier against any kind of love. As soon as the child came to light, even though they didn't want to, his parents and everybody else began to see the unfortunate boy as a detestable creature. They called him Skugga, and he grew to be the most talented child in the entire shire, but no one was able to see beyond his appearance. As nobody thought him worthy of a display of affection, he learned about the existence of good sentiments through the books alone. There was still hope, though. The spell could indeed be broken if someone were capable of a less cursory judgment upon him, something that seemed impossible, for nobody could hide their infinite dislike at the sight of his visage." 

"Poor Skugga!" Sophie exclaimed the foreign world with the fluency that only an oblivious child could possess. Christine was secretly thankful that she didn't know Swedish yet. If she did, she would have certainly questioned that name and Christine would have to answer that, unfortunately, that was what Erik had represented to so many people: a shadow. To her, he meant much more than that; she could call him of infinite names: Väglare, Vän, Älskare**… "I wonder how he could live in a place where everybody hated him."

"Naturally, he could not endure that for a long time. Growing up surrounded by cries of horror, he left the shire at last and traveled for many years," Christine searched in her mind for the details of Erik's travels, but failed to gather so many memories. The captivating aura that he and his voice gained during the evenings she had spent listening to his amazing narratives was her only vivid recollection. "He learnt the good and the evil arts, joined the divine and the sinful, becoming a very singular man. Living in exotic courts, he also met lots of people and sold them his talents. Even then, nobody accepted him as he was. With time, he saw that his journey was fruitless, concluding that he needed a place to call his own, and building one.

"It was a wonderful palace, perhaps a sort of reproduction of the shire he had been born, for it was full of magic and laughter either. Given that he was an exceptional builder, he didn't construct a copy, this palace was improved with music."

"It must have been really beautiful then, Maman, everything that has music is beautiful," Sophie said dreamily. Music enchanted her as much as fairytales. Since the day she had come to know that her mother had been a celebrated singer, the child asked Christine to sing for her sometimes. Still amazed with the palace, she inquired, "Could you tell me more about it?"

"Of course," she replied gently, making an imaginary path through the opera house she had not visited since the birth of the five-year-old girl. "There were countless magnificent statues and bright lights, which obviously didn't prevent the existence of shadows, Skugga's prime refuge. Besides, it was enormous, one could easily get lost in there. Immediately attracted by the ever-present harmony, musical creatures of various kinds populated it, and our hero chose to live in a quieter place, near an enchanted lake situated underneath the palace.

"Even living in such a fascinating neighborhood, he felt very lonely and was always trying to find new distractions. Under the indirect influence of the musical creatures, he also became a sublime musician."

"I think the witch was very unfair," Sophie stated with a serious expression that only gave a funny look to her child-like features. "He would have been an illustrious man if it weren't for the spell!"

"Yes, Sophie, that is true," Christine murmured, running her hands through her daughter's soft ebony hair. "But in fact, he didn't want fame or success that much. He just wanted to be loved. Remember, whether because of the curse or because people were too shallow to overcome it, he had never known what it felt like to be loved or to love someone. 

"For a long while, he wandered alone, watching the musical creatures perform. He never talked to them and his presence was a silent fright. They knew he had built the palace and feared that he should claim it as his someday." She mused, ready to intertwine her story with that man's, who had spent such a great part of his life behaving like a ghost, "The musical creatures were egotistic and proud; they loved to hear their own chants. Considering themselves a selected community, they couldn't take the presence of an intruder that didn't have as much confidence as them, especially if this intruder were an ungifted _human_ who dared want to sing perfectly, like a musical creature. They didn't remember when the maiden arrived, but they mocked her all the same, because she was too shy to fulfill her own pretensions. She was as lonely as Skugga and, just like him, she didn't deserve it.

"Maybe that was why fate put them together. One night, Skugga was making his way home through some magic portals that only he knew, when he heard someone crying. Intrigued with this uncharacteristic behavior supposedly coming from one of the artificially happy musical creatures, he followed the sound and reached the maiden's dwelling. The sight of that woman, perfect and innocent to his eyes, urged him to make contact with another being for the first time in his life.

'Do not cry,' he heard himself saying, his voice surprisingly soft in the small room. The maiden looked up, and, not seeing the owner of that voice – Skugga was still hidden –, the sadness in her face was swiftly replaced by a mixture of fear and curiosity. Skugga soothed, 'Do not be frightened. Tell me what upsets you so.'

'I… I want to sing, but my voice isn't good enough and it never will be, because no one helps me,' the maiden stated, still teary, impelled to speak by that wonderful voice.

Skugga recalled that, in fact, he had heard her voice that same day. It was only untrained. He needed to help her, to talk to her once more and, before retaking his path with a newfound enthusiasm, he promised,

'I will help you.'

'Who are you?' the maiden asked, now less afraid and much more curious.

"But she received no reply. That didn't stop her from recalling the tales about the spirits that resided in places like that palace, full of music. Because of his divine voice, she fancied this new ally as one of them. She obeyed his every word since then," Christine chuckled, remembering of her own naïveté, as Sophie shifted a little to show that she was still awake and urge her mother on. "The only one who noticed the maiden's sudden change of behavior after that unobserved interview was a young musical creature from the second generation of the ones that dwelt in the palace. Even though she was the maiden's only friend there, she didn't come to know about her special visitor for a long time.

"Meanwhile, Skugga's lessons increased her talent to levels she had never dreamt of. He used of all subtle ways to prove her value to the musical creatures and they decided to allow her to sing to a great public at last, believing that in the end she would disappoint her nameless master. For the first time in its history, the palace opened its marvelous gates to the outsiders following the owner's wishes. Unlike the musical creatures, he felt that his apprentice was ready to impress her colleagues, the men – and her own tutor.

"The righteous knights that had appeared to watch the presentation were delighted with what they saw and heard. The musical creatures were divinely beautiful, with their delicate visages and graceful movements. Using their incredible ability to change their appearances and characteristics, they not even needed their ostensively elegant garments to make their performances impressive. Not possessing the musical creature's countless natural gifts, however, the only human in the cast had a pure voice that evoked much greater emotions – and memories –, especially to one of the knights, a handsome young man, who searched for her everywhere after the performance. He could barely believe in his eyes, never connecting that inspiring diva to the innocent child he had once met, a life before. His heart sang at the sound of her voice now, but his keenness was repaid with a gentle dismiss when he finally found her." Christine knew, after all those years, why she had acted that way towards Raoul, "That night, the maiden only wished the company of her mysterious teacher."

"Was she in love with him?" Sophie inquired.

"She didn't know what she felt for him at the time. Her heart went to him whenever she heard his voice and with time she grew to be more and more dependent of his lessons, for they were the only way to somehow be with him. Yet, she still saw Skugga as a transcendental being, not even suspecting that in truth he was the enigmatic owner of the palace."

"And Skugga, Maman?" the girl asked, a bit disappointed with the maiden.

"Yes," Christine breathed, wondering if she would ever be capable of describing Erik's feelings to another person, since she herself had taken long to fully understand them. Would things have been different had Erik simplified them a little? "He knew that his uncharacteristic eagerness for her company and his unrepressed musical inspiration, along with the numerous compositions that came after it, entirely dedicated to her, were love."

"It's odd that he, who had never known love before, could recognize this feeling so well and she couldn't," Sophie conjectured innocently.

"Very odd," she nodded. "As I was saying, she had never seen Skugga; until that night…

"Through the usual portal, he dared to appear in front of her for the first time.

'Come, you've made me very happy tonight,' he told her, trying to speak evenly as she took his hand.

"At first, she didn't see much of his figure but the cowl he wore; it only stirred her natural curiosity, and she never thought that Skugga was wearing it lest he frighten her. She felt his uneasy eyes on her, and was eager to look directly into them. How does it feel to look into a spirit's eyes, she wondered? His touch, though infinitely gentle, sent shivers down her spine. Singing softly, he dragged her into his realm behind the magic portals."

"And how was it?" Sophie questioned, always ready for more descriptions.

"Confusing and dark. If they weren't together, she would have definitely gotten lost in that bizarre labyrinth. After crossing the dark enchanted lake on a beautiful boat, they arrived at his home. 

"Not even giving her the time to absorb the particulars of her new location, Skugga guided her to his favorite part of the house and started to play an organ placed at the corner of a room full of books. There, he sang for her with all his love. She had heard Skugga's voice many times, but, that night, she marveled at its sublimity as intensely as never. Soon she fell asleep, the song becoming unending in her dreams," Erik's voice, that unforgettable night, echoed in her mind, making her shut her eyes to retain the delightful memory. "The next morning, she woke on a comfortable bed, in the most beautiful room she had ever seen. Then, she saw Skugga, playing the organ with a musician's dedication. Again, the cowl frustrated her hopes of glimpsing his face. She couldn't comprehend why he hid it; after all, the owner of such a beautiful voice, a spirit, must own a beautiful visage as well. With his back turned to her, he did not notice her approaching, giving her the tempting chance to lower the cowl and see what it covered. 

"The plain despair written on Skugga's face when he wheeled around, as horrified with her action as she was at that sight, was enough to make her back away, appalled.

'Oh, why this incessant curiosity?' he mourned. 'Now you'll see this in your dreams… your worst dreams. This is a curse, foolish child, and now you're under it too.'

"And then he told her his story, carefully excluding any mention of how the spell could be broken, convinced that she couldn't be different from the others who had seen his ugliness before. They both knew it was impossible for her to stay any longer as he sent her away. His only companion that day was the certainty that she would never come back."

"He didn't deserve this, Maman. He was so good to her!" Sophie protested, exasperated with the maiden's ingratitude.

"She thought this either. After all, he had been kind to her as no one had before and she wanted to overcome her fears for his sake. She returned to him as soon as she could, but during the brief time they eventually spent apart, the knight stalked her even more insistently. His visit, though short, had stirred memories of the days she had spent in the company of the lovely youngster he had once been. They had played like siblings in a dreamland, bonded by an endless gratitude that conduced into friendship. In her mind, nothing could possibly change that, so she ended up accepting his company and mistaking his words of love for camaraderie. She forgot to tell Skugga about such a wonderful companion every time she went back to his side."

"And Skugga? Didn't he guess this?" Sophie demanded, defending her favorite character's interests.

"Of course he did! All the time, he hovered close, like an invisible watcher. And he was tremendously jealous. Contrasting to the maiden, he could see clearly the young knight's intentions and his advances enraged him more than everything. Slowly, he fell into absolute despair, his harshness not harmonizing with the image of sweet guardian the maiden still kept of him. 

"One night, the knights – who had practically turned the palace into their own quarters now – and the musical creatures were paying a high price for disobeying Skugga. Again, they tried to make the maiden disappear from the stage and be the sole stars. She knew this had caused a lot of distress to Skugga and she didn't want to see him angry, so she followed the young knight gladly during the interval. In the next minute, she was in his secure arms, away from the crowd and from Skugga's control – or so they thought. The knight then promised her everything: the moon that shone above them, the stars, his brave heart. And he impetuously bent to kiss her. 

"To her disillusionment, neither this bold man nor the shadow that watched them knew her true response. She wanted nothing of this; she just wanted to _understand_ what was going on with her heart and with the minimized world around her. Everything had changed way too fast. She wanted to apologize to the knight, for having to break his heart, and to Skugga, for having broken his. But nobody was able to read all these unvoiced wishes in her eyes. 

"When she returned to sing again, the immense, beautiful illumination on the ceiling fell suddenly a few steps from the maiden's foot, an overwhelming threat that she understood all too well.

"The time passed and the maiden never heard of her Skugga again. He didn't come to her anymore, nor she knew how to approach him. But the right opportunity appeared before her at the right time. Infinitely joyous now that Skugga had disappeared, the musical creatures and the knights, now a sole community, offered a party to celebrate the fact. But she knew he had not vanished into thin air. Far from it, he came to her then, defiantly alive. He said that he was determined to show his most valuable piece to the world, now that he had a singer worth of it, and demanded the musical creatures' involvement."

"He had a masterpiece, then?" Sophie inquired, using a word that she had just read somewhere in her Papa's library.

"Yes, and it was… brilliant," Christine found that, after all those years, she still couldn't define the _Dom Juan Triumphant_ with any other adjective than the same she utilized to define its composer.  She simply went breathless recalling the unbearable amount of feelings in the most difficult piece she had ever sung. "He also had a plan behind this master piece."

"And I suppose it involved the maiden," Sophie said, as if guessing the facts of a story she already knew.

"It did. Skugga had begun to compose it before meeting his beloved, but only finished it after his jealousy became destructive. He concluded that he had to force the maiden onto a decision: he would leave the knight in peace if she demonstrated gratefulness and chose to remain with her thoughtful teacher, or he would kill the knight and oblige her to stay with him nevertheless. He found it improbable that she would choose him willingly, not after _knowing_ about his awful curse. His comments about the young knight when they were rehearsing her part – obviously, the most important one – unnerved the maiden; she feared that he should take drastic decisions.

"The musical creatures, envious of the human prodigy, poisoned the knight's mind against that silent presence in each of the maiden's performances, and told him that it was very likely that he was the unknown builder, and that he still lived somewhere inside the palace, manipulating the knight's innocent beloved…

"He was a brave man and dreamt of heroic acts all the time," Christine mentally compared the knight with Raoul, finding the similarity between them utterly comical, "so he wanted to confront that baffling shadow at all costs.

"Another opening night arrived, very different from the others. It was a trap to kill Skugga. The knights, the musical creatures, the ordinary people who had arrived at the palace to watch that unfathomable piece; everyone knew about it, or at least would help the young knight to achieve his intents. The maiden also knew.  She had to warn Skugga about that awful scheme. That night, she sang to attract him, but not to capture him. How could he still be oblivious to all of this? And he did come to her, deciphering the unspoken warn. Fortunately, his enemies didn't suspect of anything. And Skugga surely didn't expect her to suddenly lower his cowl. Panic overpowered most of the crowd, but not the young knight, who ran towards them. It was too late, though, for Skugga had enveloped the maiden in his cape and had fled with her, back to his subterranean world.

'For you, everything: music, protection, friendship and… love,' he told her. 'My life has been in your hands since I saw you that night and promised to help you. Now, don't turn to the past. Start a new life with me, here at my own palace.'

"Shouts not too far from them prevented the maiden from replying. Encouraged by the young knight, the others were seeking the creature that had kidnapped the maiden right before their eyes. Even if everything were absolutely silent, she knew, she was too astonished to make an immediate reply. __

'Let me in! She won't be your prisoner!' the young knight shouted from the outside, and Skugga asked him in with sarcasm. The knight demanded a battle, but it took Skugga little effort to transform his rival into his captive.

'Here you have your two options. I don't think it is that difficult to choose,' he said, hopelessness already foreseeing her reply.

Gazing at his miserable features, she didn't doubt of her final answer.

'Really, it isn't,' she murmured, closing the space between them. 'Haven't you seen my heart in your hands yet? There's no choice to be made here,' she gave him a loving look before finishing her statement, 'I realized what I wanted a long time ago,' she whispered, kissing him.

"That kiss seemed to last forever, as their love for each other would. But the next events happened fast. The knight was sent away with his companions, unhappy but still brave; the musical creatures took over the palace; and the maiden disappeared, no one ever heard of her since that fateful presentation. In fact, she didn't wish to be found, she was with her beloved at last. Skugga never had to hide again; the maiden had finally freed him from the spell the moment she had glimpsed the beauty within him. Since then, they've been living happily in another kingdom, far away."

"This was beautiful, Maman," Sophie spoke at last, still in awe. "I don't understand why it isn't in the books."

"Maybe one day it will be," Christine said absently. "People write about everything nowadays."

"But tell me, Maman: in the end, the spell was broken, and everyone saw Skugga's true appearance, right?"

"Right," she confirmed.

"Then, how Skugga really looked like?" the girl's curiosity at such a detail astounded her mother.

"To the maiden's eyes, he looked the same, for his interior had always made him handsome," she replied with honesty. 

"Was he handsome like my Papa?" Sophie insisted, smiling sweetly.

"Very much like your Papa," Christine whispered as the girl slid into the covers, sleepy. She blew out the solitary candle in the bedroom and kissed her forehead. "Now, sweet dreams, my cherub."

                                                                                  

A smile lingering in her lips, Christine shut the door behind her. 

In one minute, she was complimenting herself for the good time offered to her daughter, on the other, gasping as two familiar arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her. "What did you tell her tonight?" inquired his velvet voice in her ear.

She let out a sigh of satisfaction, delighting in his embrace. She had intended to surprise him when he returned home late at night, but, as always, it was he who had surprised her. "I can only say that not even your 

stories would have been more welcome," she replied, reaching up to caress his cheek.

He smiled. "The one you told her must be interesting." 

"Very interesting," she assented. "Tonight, she listened to her favorite story; the one we both know so well."

"Then you're right; my stories wouldn't have been more welcome," he acknowledged, kissing lightly her palm. "The most captivating character is in this one."

"Indeed, she loves yours," she rejoined, laughing softly. "Tell me how it was with Nadir, Erik. I thought he would accept our hospitability this time; is he well served at the inn?" 

"Oh, you know how the Daroga is; he says he doesn't want to bother, and he brought Darius too. All the same, between a chess triumph and another, I obtained his promise to dine with us tomorrow," he said, still content with the good hours spent in the company of such an old friend. Then, changing the subject to his favorite one, "Is she asleep?"

"Yes," she yawned. 

"Let us do the same," he murmured, caringly releasing her from his embrace.

And, hand in hand, they disappeared in the darkness of the corridor. 

*_The midwife's statement was the first concept formulated about Erik. Personally, I've always seen this as a metaphor about the superstitious side of the society at the time. I thought it would be interesting to turn it into a curse here. Since it isn't based on any existing fairytale, I couldn't use an existing witch or motive for Erik's tragic initial contact with life. _

****

**_**Swedish terms:_**

**_Skugga: _**_shadow_

**_Vägledare: _**_guide_

**_Vän: _**_friend_

**_Älskare: _**_lover_


End file.
